


Time Makes All the Difference

by Kajune



Category: Dark Souls (Video Games), Dark Souls III
Genre: Anor Londo, Gen, One Shot, Speculation, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-07-10 18:10:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6999052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kajune/pseuds/Kajune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the fall of Yhorm, the Ashen One makes his way to Anor Londo, to defeat Aldrich, who has gone to devour a god for himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time Makes All the Difference

It was for her sake, he kept telling to himself, it was for the sweet pale girl from the magical painting. Such reassurance did not falter as a dark presence moved steadily closer. Bouts of coughing briefly interrupted the chant, but the god kept going. He was going to die soon, and he understood, very clearly, that it was for the greater good. Apologizes had been spoken, and so the god knew there was nothing but a sad long life to lose.

It was worth it, because it was for her sake.

_Yorshka._

* * *

The Ashen One sprang his way up the large stairs of Anor Londo. As he expected, there was an enemy waiting for him along the way, but he had fought long and hard and with a few strikes from his sword, foes one, two, and three either fell to their knees or fell over the bridge.

In his mind, he had a goal, and the goal was to obtain a Lord of Cinder, to drag him back to the Firelink Shrine dead or alive. He had a sinking feeling this Lord would not go with him willingly, just like the previous two, and he was okay with that.

The stories of a flesh-eating saint did not deter him from his ambition. He needed to do this for the sake of the world, for the Age of Fire, as was his duty.

As was his life's purpose.

Another set of steps led the Ashen One to the interior part of the massive building structure. Like the outside, inside was dimly lit.

Moving fast along the hall, the Ashen One caught sight of a fireball coming his way. He avoided it with ease and realized that there were three deacons straight ahead, appearing to guard the steps behind them. Determined to pass through their defenses, the Ashen One raised his sword and chopped them down.

Three scepters hit the ground along with a pile of bodies. The Ashen One did not look back, only forward, and continued on he did. Then suddenly, he heard a cry, and stood still for a minute.

Curtains blew above him and gray statues stood around him, but what entranced him was the appearance of a slug-like monster, devouring a frail-looking man. From what he had been told, his target, Aldrich, was no longer human in form, so he raised his sword and lunged forward.

Flames consumed the held-high blade and powerful and quick it came back down to slice at the goo-y flesh. What appeared to be Aldrich flinched back but not enough, it still had the frail man in its grasps, so the Ashen One sliced again and again until the disgusting creature recoiled all the way back towards the walls, releasing its victim. 

A thick trail of blood was left, oozing out from the legless man. He heaved deeply and through his spiked golden crown, he looked up at the Ashen One. A feeling of gratitude washed over the Ashen One but he did not stand and wait to confirm it.

Aldrich was moving again, this time seemingly furious and rightfully so, for its meal had been taken and as one egotistic figure it would consider that a major offense.

The Ashen One pulled the frail man aside, let him rest by a pillar and stood in front of him, back turned, and eyes firmly on the crawling lump of whatever it was, covered in bones and filled with a fiery conscience.

Somewhere in his mind, the Ashen One knew Aldrich recognized what he was, and why he was here.

It only made Aldrich increasingly mad.

The sword was engulfed in flames again, and the Ashen One charged forward without fear.

He was going to claim this Lord of Cinder one way or another.

* * *

Filth, soaked the floor, his armor and somehow his feet. Aldrich was dead, a spat of goo no less but the Ashen One had his soul, and a piece of him to take back to the Firelink Shrine.

The fight was difficult, Aldrich kept alternating between charging at him with a surprisingly sturdy form and going for its dinner. In the end, not even this Lord of Cinder stood a chance against him. It was slain before it could get within a hair's breadth of the frail one. 

"Oh, Ashen One."

Admittedly, the call startled him, but the Ashen One managed to turn round and meet the pitiful form of the white-clad figure, still slumped against the pillar. He was also, still bleeding, but just a little now.

"You have saved me. Thou hast saved Anor Londo from that terrifying beast, and spared me of my cruel fate." He panted. Everything about him spelled exhaustion. "I am Gwyndolin, son of the Great Lord Gwyn. I am the only true god of this realm. I thank thee heartily for thy act."

The Ashen One bowed. He was a fool for not realizing who he had saved. This was the land of the gods, what else was he expecting to find? A dragon? Gwyndolin inhaled deeply and made a move to rise, triggering the Ashen One to rush to his side. It was fairly difficult not to knock over pieces of a broken pillar.

"I am well. Though I am not at my best, I shall live, thanks to thee. Please, do not concern yourself anymore. Go, Ashen One, and link the fire once more. I beseech you."

Although reluctant, the Ashen One obeyed. He lowered his head and accepted the task, and in a moment's time, he was gone. Little did Gwyndolin know, that just as the Ashen One had reached the steps, something teleported him away.

Of all things Gwyndolin was, he was also a liar, but he did not speak a lie to the Ashen One. He was weak, plagued by his recent illness, but he was not going to die. His hideous feet were now gone, and hopefully so were the enemies outside. All that mattered, was checking in on Yorshka.

Or should he say, Priscilla.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Just something I put together since I really feel sorry for Gwyndolin. There's obvious signs of speculation here, which some of you might not agree with. That's okay. I just hope you enjoyed reading. Thank you for your time~


End file.
